Awkward Everything
by Willow's.Pond
Summary: It wasn't supposed to be this awkward, this stilted, or this….weird. Dating never seemed harder.


**Title:**Awkward Everything

**Characters:**Tim Drake/Kon. Implied Clark Kent (Superman)/Bruce Wayne (Batman).

**Warning:**Kiss. Awkwardness. Implied sexual activities but nothing explicit. Angst and then fluff.

**Rating:**PG-13

**Summary:**It wasn't supposed to be this awkward, this stilted, or this…._weird_. Dating never seemed harder.

**Disclaimer:**I do not own these characters. I do not make any profit off of these writings.

Awkward Everything

When they were friends, everything was _perfect_. They were on a level of teamwork that paralleled Superman and Batman. They _were_like Superman and Batman. Only, Kon uses a lot more slang phrases, Tim has a million and one more problems then Bruce sometimes, but they were _perfect_.

They know how to push each others buttons, but they also know _when_ to push them. They know the little habits that they have, although Tim is usually a heck lot better at spotting them, and they both what those little habits _mean_.

Kon sometimes thinks he can read Tim's move just by how Tim will unconsciously breathe just the slightest bit deeper, or how Kon can sometimes _hear_ the muscle in Tim's face move. And that sounds creepy as fuck, but Kon has to deal with _Tim_. And Tim knows some of the creepiest shit. Ever.

Kon _never_ wants to know how _Tim_ knows how _Clark_ likes to be fucking _blowed_ by _Batman_. And Kon is _not_ thinking about how Tim had flushed a deep red, how his heartbeat had sped up, how Kon could fucking _smell_ Tim's…

Not going there. Not going there. At. _All_.

So, knowing each other. Yeah, they knew the each other. Favorite food, favorite comics, favorite TV show and movie (Kon always feels his heart clench whenever Tim bites the inside of his mouth watching _Lion__King_), favorite lot of things. Not everything though. Because, like he said, Tim has a million and one problems he _doesn__'__t_ talk about, and sometimes Kon will clam up and not say a word. But they _clicked_. Teammates, friends, _brothers_.

And there was always the undercurrent of attraction. The hugs, the side glances, the way the both of them would blush subtlety, and the way they could just _talk_.

So, when they first tried a relationship, when they confessed, Kon stuttering, Tim looking at him straight on with a look of half _fear_, half a dubious and _shocked_ hope, they hadn't suspected that it would be….

"…Shit,"

It was…_is_ awkward. Awkward as knowing just _how__much_ Tim _knows_ about, well…_everyone_. Awkward as the fact that it's been three months and they stutter around each other, they blush when they _hug_ now, and they don't know how to act around each other. Talking is stilted and dull as Kon tries to push all these topics to talk about and as Tim just nods and gives a smile that _tastes_ like plastic.

And it has been three months later and nothing has gotten better but they're still_attracted_ to each other, and Kon just wants to grab Tim sometimes and just...

And Tim had kissed him. _Tim_. And it's what Kon had wanted to do since day _forever_. Since Tim said yes. _Before_ Tim had said yes.

But the thing is, it's not a good kiss. Their lips are barely touching but that isn't what makes it terrible.

Both he and Tim are rigor-motis stiff, standing apart from each other in a way that seems like they don't even want to _touch_ each other. Their hands are clenched tight, balled up right next to their sides, and Tim is staring at Kon like Kon is going to punch a hole in his face at any moment. Kon is just staring at Tim as if Tim is going to bite his lips off.

"…Shit,"

Tim whips back and turns around, stiff and stoic. Kon bites his lips, _licks_them, and he winces as Tim utters curses under his breath.

"Um, Tim…What was _that_," Kon groans internally at the words that spill out of his own mouth and he wants to go to the nearest empty plot of land, bring a scrap of diamond-encrusted titanium or something, and smack his head continuously against it.

"Kon. Shut. Up," Tim growls and Kon grabs unto Tim before Tim can walk away and wallow in….well, rejection.

"Tim, Tim, come on man, that's not what I meant," Kon mutters, shifting their hands so their fingers lace. "It's just…"

"Why the hell are we even doing this," Tim mutters, bitter and sad. Kon's heart clenches and Kon opens his mouth to tell him _why_, to explain to Tim just _how__much_ the shorter boy means to him.

"It's been three months Kon and we can't hug, we can't talk, we can't hang out, we can't even fucking _kiss_ without acting like we're a pair of drunken ass strangers caught in the morning-after!" Tim is stiff and his fingers are limp within Kon's clasp. Kon swallows and tugs Tim towards him.

Kon _knows_ Tim has at least a dozen ways to get out of a meta-human's grip and it's half-relieving and half pure _relief_ that Tim just sinks into the hug. _This_ feels right. This hug feels like their hugs from before; before all the awkwardness and this strange and distorted phase they're going through now.

Kon just hugs Tim and tries to convey the emotions he can't seem to say out loud. Tim hugs back, tight and unsure, and there's a lingering feeling of wrongness but it's so damn _reassuring_ because they're touching, hugging, _connecting_, without the maddening, itching urge to jump away they have had for the past three months.

And this time Kon is leaning down to brush his lips against Tim and it's almost as bad as the first one because Tim is too tense, too wound up, thinking too damn much about the possibilities and probabilities of them breaking up.

"Stop that Tim," Kon shoots out, sharp and _fearful_. He's just got Tim, he's just _got_ Tim, and Kon can't even _think_ about letting go.

Kon hugs Tim tighter and Tim squeezes back with a bruising force and the third time they meet to touch lips it's not as horrible, not as awkward, not as absolutely bad like the other two times. And it's like the third kiss had opened a door because they're kissing each other, hugging each other, _clinging_ unto each other in desperate, _hungry_ ways. Tim is clutching unto his arms and Kon has one arm digging into Tim's hip and another one soothing its way into Tim's hair.

And there's nothing sexual about the way they cling, the way they arch into each other because it's too soon for that, it's not about the sex, and Kon is _laughing_ because everything seems to _click_ again.

"I don't think our morning-afters are going to be that bad anymore," Kon hums, and Tim groans, laughs, and makes a noise between exasperation and glee as they hug like they used to, touch like they used, but only with _more_.

"Stupid," Tim bites out, his smile sharp and bright, his eyes gleaming and Tim surges forward to kiss Kon again. Kon sighs and returns the kiss.


End file.
